by Rob Sorenson

Faith had been on quite a ride.

The El Camino had literally flown a couple of times when she hit bumps in the road, sending sparks flying from the screech of metal versus asphalt upon landing. Perhaps more importantly, she'd taken terrible risks to cut through traffic. An accident would have been most inconvenient in a stolen car. She doubted the cops would buy the fact that she planned on returning the car after she was done.

Especially after a look at her record. Even with her executive pardon from the Governor of California (his daughter had been attacked by a vamp on a campaign trip...Buffy had used her newfound political clout wisely, in Faith's humble opinion), things wouldn't be pretty.

Still, she'd beaten her running speed by a good 15 minutes. This would make it all worth it if Xander needed her. The huge stadium loomed before her, and she screeched to a halt, thereby throwing any pretense of stealth out the window and muffling the sound of a gunshot within the massive edifice.

She leaped out, only to have the way to the main entrance blocked by the emergence of a group of tough looking men, looking upon her with a strange combination of fear and hostility.

This was easily familiar to her. She'd lived the first twenty one years of her life feeling that same way toward anyone who'd tried to get close to her.

Until Xander. <Even then....>, she thought. She roughly shoved those thoughts aside, telling herself to focus on the immediate problem and worry about that much needed conversation later.

Faith stood before them, feet apart, hands hanging beside her like a gunfighter waiting for the count of three.

"You guys know how this is going to end, right?"

The man in front spoke up.

"We have our orders."

"Change 'em if you wanna live."

"We're human."

Faith said nothing, simply staring at him with no _expression.

"Slayers are not allowed to kill humans. Threatening our lives is unreasonable."

"Threatening the life of someone I love is pretty fucking unreasonable too, doncha think? What exactly has Travers been telling you?"

His face remained impassive.

"You are a threat to the world's safety."

"Change that to past tense and you might've had a point. Look, I don't have all night to banter with you guys. Plus, you're kinda boring even for an English guy, and that's saying something. I'm gonna walk through that door and find my man. Anyone who makes a move against me risks their life."

She moved with purpose, and one of the ten guards stepped in front of her in a classic aikido stance. She sighed and slammed a fist into his face before he had time to react, blowing him back into the arms of his companions.

"That was the warning shot. I let him live, though he ain't waking up for a while. Anybody else?"

The group's leader's reply was in the form of an order to his fellow guards. "Weapons."

The nine remaining fighters took out various items with which they planned to use to defend themselves.

Faith smiled gently as she surveyed the arsenal, speaking to each fighter individually.

"Ok, first of all, dig the nunchuks. I always thought they were wicked. I'm going for those first.

The ole' chain around the fist works great when you actually get a chance to use it...which you won't.

Ooooh, a katana. No fair, dude. You have a sword and I don't. Ah, well. I'll just take yours after I shatter the arm that holds it."

She began moving slowly to get a better view of the ensemble with one eyebrow raised, ticking her fingers as she spoke.

"Crossbow? I'll catch the arrow and shove it up your ass.

That's an awfully big kendo stick you have there, big guy. Someone's compensating for something, I think.

That switchblade is just funny. Were you one of the Sharks or the Jets?

Is that a vibrator? No, wait, that's a blackjack. That's like, an old gangster weapon or something, right? Points for throwback creativity.

Let's see...what's left?"

The commander had heard his fill. "Does Faith The Vampire Slayer just talk all evening or fight?"

"Are you new? All Slayers talk all evening before they fight. It's part of the tradition. Some do it better than others, of course, but--"

"Enough. There are nine of us and one of you. You can't take us if we all attack at once."

"Maybe so. I'll get most of ya, though. Who wants to die for the Watcher's Council tonight? Show of hands?"

The leader addressed his troops in response.

"She's trying to intimidate us. When I give the order, attack as one. The odds of nine to one are too much for her and she knows it."

"Care to recount, wanker?"

Faith smiled brightly without turning around. She knew that voice anywhere. She spoke one word, eyes widened and smile growing ever wider:

"Whoops."

***************************************************************

**Five Minutes Earlier**

From the moment the guiding light turned the corner into the darkened passageway in the bowels of the stadium, Dawn knew she was going to see Xander any second.

Willow had apparently been correct in her assessment: there were no guards within. Still, she moved carefully. Voices were beginning to reach her ears, and she slowed even further, crouching slightly in preparation of an attack.

Finally she was lead down this corridor, a brilliantly lit room near it's end. She flattened herself against the wall, inching along as quietly as she could. As she approached the room, she risked a peek inside.

She saw a glint of metal as a man, clearly one of Xander's kidnappers, retrieved a gun from his belt. Again flattening herself against the wall, she tried desperately to control her breathing, the feathery touch of panic teasing her stomach.

She heard the captor's words, which confirmed her worst fears. Xander was about to be shot.

<What did you think he was going to do with it, moron? Scratch his back?>, she raged inwardly at herself. Again, she took a deep, cleansing breath, allowing herself one more line of inner dialogue.

<So Dawn....just how good are you?>

It was time to find out. She followed the tiny beam of light into the room, waiting for the moment the gun was turned her way. Seconds later, she saw him whipping around in the practiced, well trained manner of a professional soldier.

She immediately dropped and rolled, feeling the whistle of a bullet over her head, missing her by centimeters.

Without hesitation, she turned the roll all the way over, now squatting directly in front of the gunman. Pistoning her legs, she threw her 115 pound body into him with all the strength her thighs could bring to bear.

The man Xander had christened Jeeves was stunned to find himself slammed into the wall, wind momentarily blasted from his body.

Dawn brought her knee to his wrist, breaking it and causing the gun to clatter harmlessly to the floor, sliding at Xander's feet.

He simply stared at it, eyes expressionless.

Pierre finally found his wits and attacked Dawn from behind. She sensed his arrival and timed her elbow thrust perfectly, hammering it into his forehead.

He was no fighter; he crumpled to the ground immediately, unconscious.

Jeeves now had Dawn by one wrist, trying with his one good arm to twist her arm behind her.

She headbutted him hard on the bridge of his nose, causing blood to gush through the nostrils. He, too, crumpled helplessly to the shiny black floor.

Dawn winced, moving her hand to her forehead. "Ow! Crap! Buffy never said anything about how much those hurt! Now I'm gonna need a Tylenol."

"I think I might need one too."

Amazingly, Dawn had been so focused on her attackers she hadn't gotten a good look at Xander. Once she did, her hand flew from her forehead to her mouth, eyes watering.

"Oh my God.....Xander.....Oh God."

"Dawnie, the keys are in his pocket," Xander said, indicating the prone form of Pierre.

She remained frozen for a moment at his horrific appearance, then forced herself to comply. She retrieved the keys, than worked the locks on his manacles with shaking hands.

Xander collapsed against the corner, barely able to raise his elbow to stop his head from slamming into it.

The agonizing needles that signified blood returning to his extremities started immediately, causing him to gasp.

Dawn was trying to hold him up, and he managed a ghastly smile in response to her efforts.

"I'll just fall on you, honey. Give me a sec, okay?"

"O-okay." She quickly turned away dried her eyes, hoping he hadn't seen her mortified reaction to how he looked.

As if he didn't know. Still, he was proud of her. She was so brave and good. While she was turned away, he stooped over and retrieved the gun, uncocking it and sticking the still-hot barrel into his back pocket.

"Dawn, you were amazing. Buffy's going to be so proud of you."

"Xander, we have to go. Do you know if there are any more of them?"

"I'm not sure. I've seen maybe three--or four--guys." Dizziness overwhelmed him as he tried to rise from his slumped position.

He took a deep breath, willing himself to get it together. "Ok, next step is walking on one good leg. Dawnie, hand me that taser."

She leaned over.

"Not that end, Dawn! The handle!"

She jerked her hand away, changing her angle just in time to avoid a massive shock.

When he took it, he had an urge to shove it toward Jeeves, but he had a sense that this was no longer going to be effective.

He turned the power off and used the weapon as a makeshift crutch. With Dawn's support, he was at last able to make his way out of the room. As they made their way out, his eyes slid to the right.

"Xander, the way out is here." She gestured with her head to the left. He simply nodded and they awkwardly proceeded down the hall.

At last, he smelled fresh air, awakening his senses. His working limbs had full sensation again, and he moved considerably better within one hundred feet of leaving his hall of torture.

He knew they were close to the exit.

"Dawn, do me a favor?"

She looked to him with worried eyes as he went on.

"Check outside for us and see if there are any posted guards. If I'm draped all over you out there and get attacked we're screwed."

She nodded and smiled. "Right. Good idea."

She turned and moved toward the exit. She didn't get a step away before Xander reached for her and pressed hard on the nerves of her neck, close to her spine.

"Unh!" Dawn began to collapse immediately; Xander dropped the taser and caught her as she fell, lowering her gently to the concrete floor. Balancing himself on one leg, he removed his blood soaked sweater, rolled it into a ball and placed it gently beneath her head. He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead as she stared at him with uncomprehending eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Dawnie. I love you so much. You're just too good to see this. I'll be back for you."

He turned around, face transformed to an expressionless mask. He hopped on one foot, holding his left arm against the wall.

His shattered leg dragged uselessly behind him as he made his way back inside, removing the gun from his pocket.

****************************************************************

"One more chance, guys. Put the toys down and run. I'm not in the mood to play around any more."

Faith's warning fell on deaf ears as the Watcher's Security force moved almost imperceptibly forward.

Buffy spoke up. "Faith, go in and find Xander. Spike and I can handle this."

"Are you sure?"

Spike simply snorted.

Buffy's face held an incredulous look. She looked at their opponents and back at Faith.

She looked at them again.

She looked back to Faith.

"Ok, B, I get it. It's just...you guys look kinda thrashed, you know?"

Buffy said one word:

"Go."

Faith nodded and headed toward the door. The guard armed with the crossbow took careful aim and fired.

As predicted, she turned toward him, catching the arrow in midair, an amazed look on her face. She turned back and addressed Spike.

"Did you happen to overhear what I said I was gonna do to that guy with this arrow?"

"Yes, Ma'am. That I did."

She tossed it to him, eyes on the man holding the bow. "Take care of that for me?"

"You got it."

She grinned at Spike. "Thanks."

He winked at her with his good eye and she resumed walking into the building, hearing her fellow Slayer's fading voice as she moved inside.

"Ok, I saw that. That was a wink. I know how you guys flirt, but doing it in front of me is SO not cool."

***************************************************************

Faith was alarmed to see Dawn lying motionless on the concrete. She ran to her and saw the youngest Summers was fully conscious, sporting an ugly bruise on her forehead.

"What happened? Is that Xander's sweater?'

Dawn's eyes were frightened.

"Are you ok?"

Dawn realized she was able to nod, and did so.

"Where is he?"

The Key spoke in a strained voice.

"Inside. I don't know why. He didn't hurt me....just made everything stop working for a minute. Some kind of nerve thing."

Faith understood immediately. "It's a pressure point. I taught it to him. You'll be ok in a minute...it's very temporary and painless."

"I don't care about me. Find him. Now."

Faith ran deeper into the building without another word.

**************************************************************

Travers was beginning to become annoyed. He'd clearly heard the gunshot. He needed Pierre to report as quickly as possible so they could arrange to transport his body back to Sunnydale.

He'd decided the best place for him would be on the Slayer's doorstep. He closed his eyes and fantasized about the _expression on the faces of her pathetic little band.

How he wished he could be there. Alas, it was time for a brief sabbatical until another plan could be worked out to finish Miss Summers once and for all.

He picked up his radio and called for Pierre in an annoyed voice.

"He's not gonna hear you."

Travers face went slack; the Harris boy was in the doorway, lurching toward him like a zombie. Instantly he began to put his wheelchair in reverse, considering his options.

When Xander raised the Walther, those options became very limited indeed. The badly injured young man was now standing 15 feet away, leaning against the huge teak conference table that was the room's centerpiece.

Travers was trapped behind the executive deck in the corner.

"What do you plan to do with that, boy?"

"I'm not a boy."

"What would you prefer I call you?"

"I'd prefer you call me nothing at all. In fact, I'd prefer you say nothing else from now on."

The gun cocked ominously.

"Xander, what are you doing?"

He turned, eyes glazing over with shock and fear. He leaned against the table enough to swing the gun her way.

"Stay away from me!"

She raised both hands and backed up. "Honey, it's me. It's Faith."

"How do I know that?"

Travers saw opportunity and spoke up.

"You don't, boy. I made them well, didn't I? Perhaps you should kill us both to be certain."

Faith took a slow breath. "Xander, it's me. You have to know it's me, right?"

"I don't know shit."

"Yes you do."

"Don't come any closer. I know how fast Slayers are, but my finger is faster than your legs. I'll make you a deal: let me kill him and you can have me. Kill me as slow as you want, but this guy does NOT roll out of here."

"She serves me, boy. If you want me dead, she has to go first."

Xander turned back to him, hand shaking now..

"Shut up. Just shut...up."

He turned back, to find Faith gone. He looked wildly from left to right, only to find her standing directly in front of Travers's desk. She smiled gently.

"Pretty fast, huh? Don't you think I could've taken that gun from you by now if I can do this?"

The gun was firmly trained on her now.

"Xander, I can't let you do this."

"Get out of the way, Faith."

"So you know it's really me, now?"

"I guess I'd be dead by now if you were Evil."

"Xander, you need to get to a hospital. You're hurt badly."

"Thanks for the update. If you move and let me finish this, I'll let you carry me from here."

"No."

"Faith, move. Now."

He fired a shot over their heads.

Travers flinched; Faith did not.

"Xander, we need to talk."

"Dammit, Faith, just get out of the way. Please."

"Are you afraid of me?"

His eyes clouded with confusion. "Huh?"

"You heard me."

He hesitated a moment before answering.

"Of course not."

She shook her head slightly.

"That took too long. My clone--before I beat her ass--told me you were scared of me. I didn't believe her until I saw the look in your eyes when I came in here. Don't tell me you didn't know that was really me when I first came in, either."

Xander said nothing. She took a deep breath and plodded on.

"We need to talk about our first time together."

His one eye blinked in surprise. His cracked lips opened slightly.

"It's my fault we didn't cover this, Xand. It was stupid of me to think you'd just forget. You know me; I like to cover stuff up and make believe it never happened."

"Faith, just move. Please."

She made believe he hadn't spoken, catching the arrival of Buffy, Dawn and Spike out of the corner of her eye, silently imploring them to remain where they were.

Xander was so focused on Faith and Travers that he hadn't even noticed.

"That night you saved everybody's life, but you saved mine twice. I repaid you the only way I knew how at the time. I didn't know anything about your life; honestly, I didn't care. You were just B's friend, and you were cute, so I figured what the Hell, you know? It didn't mean anything."

Xander's hand was shaking in a more pronounced way now as she went on relentlessly, eyes tearing up.

"I was stupid. I took what I wanted and threw you out. Next time you were in there I'd killed a man." Faith looked away and shook her head, tears flowing freely.

"You came back to me to help. Not for another round in the sack or anything like that. You genuinely wanted to help,. even though B told you it meant nothing to me. She was right. Still, you came, because you felt it was the right thing to reach out to me. You'd never been with anyone that way before, and it meant so much. Everything in your life had been hard...and painful.

No one in your own house had ever told you they loved you. Unless you count being beaten as a sign of affection. Somehow, through all those negative feelings you had inside...knowing that Cordy never really loved you, Willow pulling away from you for Oz, Buffy rejecting you for a vampire...it seemed like you were always the second option. The guy people would turn to if the one they really wanted wasn't around. Yet you still came because you recognized something in me."

Her hands covered her mouth as she sobbed openly, barely managing to get the words out.

"I repaid you by throwing you on my bed and grinding against you while I had my hands on your throat. That night I took the one thing you had left to give, and I polluted it. I made it painful, and scary, and useless. Making love, REAL love, with all the affection and warmth that we both needed so badly....I ripped it away from you. I am so sorry. I know that sounds pathetic, but it's all I can do.

The amazing thing to me is the way you accepted me after I came back to Sunnydale. Everyone else tiptoed around me, but you reached out, after I had done more to hurt you than anyone else.

You are something very special, Xander Harris. You saved me even after everything I did to push you away."

Xander didn't know where his dehydrated body had found it, but a single tear made it's way out of his good eye. He spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"Faith, he tried to kill us. All of us. Buffy could've been dead because I was too weak to stop it."

"I'm not. I'm right here, Xand."

His eye turned to the door, holding the gun in place.

"Xander, please don't do this."

"Buffy, this is something I have to do. I'm not going to be weak any more."

Faith spoke again.

"Xander, I didn't fall in love with a weak man. I fell for an incredibly strong man. A man strong enough to put that gun down and let me take care of him. It's your turn to let me be there for you. If you do this, though...the man I love is gone."

She moved to the side, exposing Travers.

"Your move, baby. We all love you so much. If this is what you want, ok....but things will never be the same between you and me. I need you more than you can ever understand. You make my life something worth living....but not if you do this. Please don't make the same mistake I did."

Xander looked at her for a long time, breathing heavily.

No one said a word. At last he looked down, dropped the gun, and spoke one last time.

"I'm sorry."

He slid down to the floor, broken leg bending into a grotesque angle.

Faith got to him first. "Xander. Xander!!"

His eyes were rolling into the back of his head as she shook him hard.

"Faith, let me look at him."

She gave no response, cradling him.

"Faith...."

At last she looked up; looking into the eyes of Willow, who had arrived at some point. The redhead repeated her original words.

"Let me look at him."

Faith obeyed, and Willow knelt to him, professionally checking his pulse, doing a dispassionate inventory of his massive injuries.

Some things a person just never grew out of.

"We have to splint this leg. We need something--" she looked around the room--"the chair leg. Break it off."

No one moved, eyeing Xander with worry and shock.

"The chair leg. NOW!! Spike, come on."

He snapped out of his trance, doing as she said and kneeling next to her, chair leg in hand. They gingerly straightened his leg.

"We need something to hold this in place."

Spike whipped off his duster and tore strips off the bottom, handing them to Willow as he snatched duct tape off the conference table.

He wrapped it as well as he could while Willow continued checking his vitals, turning to the others when she finished.

"He's in shock. We have to get him to a hospital, like now."

Faith found her voice. "I've got wheels."

"Ok, good. You guys, take the legs off this conference table. We'll put him on that."

Buffy and Faith broke the legs off the table, creating a flat surface on which to lay him, and they put him there, as gently as possible. Dawn placed his sweater under Xander's head, just as he'd done for her twenty minutes before.

Spike lifted the makeshift stretcher, shaking his head as Buffy and Faith moved in to help.

"I've got him. You guys watch Travers. Keys?"

Faith handed them over as Spike looked to the Wiccan. "Willow, stay with me?"

She nodded, and they made their way out the door carefully, Spike speaking to Willow in hushed tones as they made their way out of the stadium.

In the conference room, Faith was drying her eyes and trying to hold in the rush of panic that had overwhelmed her as Xander had collapsed.

She turned to Buffy and Dawn, face openly desperate. "I did too much, didn't I? I pushed him too hard.." she dragged her fingers through her hair.

Buffy moved to her. "No. You did not do this." She pointed. "He did."

Travers was in the same place, a demented smile etched on his face. Buffy moved toward him, only to have Faith touch her arm.

"If I wasn't going to let Xander do it, I sure won't let you."

Dawn spoke up.

"The guys that actually did it with their own hands are two doors down."

They exchanged looks and started out of the room as one, only to be met by Spike.

"Willow's on her way. You guys should go after her."

Buffy responded with a sigh. She really wanted to meet the guys who had done that to Xander.

Spike nodded as if he'd read her mind.

"I know. I want to make them pay too. Let's worry about Xander first. I can't risk going out right now anyway; the sun will be up in less than an hour. I'll watch them down here until tonight, and we can suss things out from there."

Buffy nodded, staring at him. Now she read his thoughts.

"This doesn't end here, does it?"

"No pet, it certainly does not."

All eyes met once more. Moments later, the three women left the room, leaving Spike alone with Travers. Travers had begun to speak, but William covered his mouth with duct tape before he could get a word out.

He'd heard quite enough from him already.

- End Chapter Twenty-two -